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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30094557">A New Dawn</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyTaterTot49/pseuds/CrazyTaterTot49'>CrazyTaterTot49</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, BAMF Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Blood, Clay | Dream Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Cold, Don't Like Don't Read, Dream being a Dick, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Everyone is so confused, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, I know I'm forgetting a tag or two but fuck it, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury, Introspection, Issues, Major character death - Freeform, Not Beta Read, Pandora's Vault Prison, Power Corrupts, Protective Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Psychological Trauma, Redemption, Regret, Starvation, Storyline takes place in-game, Time Travel, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Trauma, a broken clock is still right once a day, memory problems, mute dream, sorta - Freeform, they both get one</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:07:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,403</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30094557</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyTaterTot49/pseuds/CrazyTaterTot49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>How long had it been since he felt anything other than guilt and regret.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>155</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Reminiscence of a Criminal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story is purely fictional and takes place inside the Dream SMP and not real life.<br/>The characters and any original quotes belong to their rightful owners.<br/>This work is not beta read, so any mistakes are my own.  </p><p>- Hope everyone enjoys.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Date: May 16th, 2027<br/>Location: Pandora’s Vault<br/>Time: 0100<br/>_<br/>Dream stares up at the ceiling of his cell, contemplating the last several years.<br/>He was going to be twenty-seven this year, and he would be spending it in this hellhole once again for the sixth time in a row.<br/>“Heh.” He chuckles, feeling tears gather in his eyes as he shivers.<br/>Despite the lava wall, the cell was still unbearably cold. The weeping obsidian continuously dripped water from the ceiling and soaked his clothing. It had been like that since the beginning, starting with a few blocks having the purple veins running through them and continuing to multiply, drenching the floor with water that hissed and popped the closer it was to the wall of lava.<br/>The water that didn’t evaporate sat at the back of his cell, icing over the walls and corners of the room, leaving the back half of the room with an arctic crispness that nipped at his skin with a painful bitterness. That was the main reason why Dream always spent as much time as possible near the lava wall, because at least near it he’d be warm.<br/>Even after so much time having passed, he had never gotten used to the drastic temperature difference. It never helped that he was constantly exhausted and not fed well enough to maintain his body's natural temperature. This led to him constantly sweating too much or shivering so hard his teeth clattered.<br/>It was the only sound to fill his cell, the clock on his wall having long since stopped working and remaining frozen with its large hand between the twelve and one, while the small hand was poised directly over the four.<br/>Dream wished he could just open his mouth and speak. But he had not spoken in years. Why would he when there was no one to listen? Or rather, no one who wanted to listen…..<br/>By now he had resigned himself to the sad truth that his vocal chords were unable to produce more than a raspy whistle. However, even that small noise sent shocks of red hot pain through Dream’s neck whenever he tried to relearn to speak. He had found this out year three, when he had not spoken for over a year and a half. He had opened his mouth to say something and found that he couldn’t.<br/>That day had been one of the worst days he had since being imprisoned, and Dream had spent countless hours throwing himself into the lava, wishing to permanently die, but being unable to. Hadn’t he suffered already? Was everything he did so unforgivable that he had to stay trapped in this little black box with no sunlight? He had already lost all that he cared about. All his possessions? Did he really have to lose his voice as well? What more could the damned imprisonment take from him?<br/>Sometime later, after dozens and dozens of deaths, Sam had come into his cell and dragged his half unconscious body to the back wall. The creeper-hybrid chained him there, saying that he was tired of getting contacted by people whose communicator’s kept pinging with Dream’s death messages.<br/>He had taken Dream’s books, his chest, anything that made his cell not a cell.<br/>Dream had thrashed and screamed soundlessly, tears in his eyes as he had fought against his own weakness, the sudden cold, the pain of losing more.<br/>His sanity had been holding on by a thread, and he desperately grasped the fraying end, hoping to stay awake.<br/>It didn’t work. And he had spiraled so far that year four and several months of year five were still a jumbled blur of memories in his mind.<br/>Dream didn’t know what he did, what he ate, who he saw, or why that particular event was what finally set him off.<br/>It was only towards the middle of year five that he came back to himself enough to be allowed to roam around his cell without chains again.<br/>He stopped throwing himself into the lava after that.<br/>Instead he turned inwards, recognizing that he was fundamentally changed, and that he would never be able to escape. Never be able to see the sky again, his friends, his family, everything was gone.<br/>He no longer tried to speak or cause problems. And most days he found himself immersed in thought, trying to remember those he had once called his own.<br/>Names escaped him more often than not, leaving flashes of memory.<br/>A pair of white goggles, a fire emblem, someone yelling “language!”, joy-filled laughter…….And many more.<br/>These were the memories filled with happy feelings, while others held darker emotions that would knock him onto his back with such a force that he would gasp for breath that wouldn’t come.<br/>A suit, a crown, a guitar, music disks, bees………...He avoided these memories at all cost, even if it broke him inside to repress and lose even more pieces of himself.<br/>He began to hear voices around the time he was released from being chained up.<br/>At first, they were mere whispers that had Dream glancing around his cell in unease.<br/>Over the second half of year five, the voices continued to develop, gaining clarity until one day Dream was finally able to understand every word.<br/>The voices interspersed with his thoughts and made him feel like he was going insane all over again, always chattering away without rhyme or reason to their randomness, questions, statements, an endless stream of words. </p><p>Dream sometimes found himself contemplating if they were his own thoughts, his psyche finally cracked wide open like an egg that had fallen from the counter and burst on the floor.<br/>Despite the temptation of company, Dream never answered the voices. He was always too scared that if he did, he would be truly and wholly lost back to the void of mindless insanity that had been year four.<br/>His silence did not seem to deter or offend the voices, and if Dream were being honest with himself, the voices reminded him of a nameless piglin-hybrid he had known once before.<br/>At the end of year five, Sam had come to him and laid down some new rules. If Dream continued to be on his best behavior, he would get to go outside the prison for a few minutes that weekend.<br/>Dream had been ecstatic, doing everything he could to be a model prisoner for just the slightest chance of going outside again. Even the voices agreed with him, cheering in happiness.<br/>He should have known that the offer was just something to give him hope so it could be ripped away.<br/>That had been a week ago, the weekend long past, and with it Dream’s hope.<br/>Dream honestly wishes he had been smart enough to see the ruse for what it was. But like a fool he had been too excited at the prospect of something different that he didn’t notice the way Sam’s expression had turned calculating, an unseen smirk on his face as he had left Dream’s cell.<br/>Dream knew now that he was never going to get out of Pandora’s Vault, no matter if he were always on his best behavior, no matter how much he wanted to plead that he was a changed man…….Not that he could.....But, it still stung and made him feel like he was drowning. His first human contact in half a year, and like a fool, he had been tricked by pretty words.<br/>He should have known better. No one visited him anymore, everyone having stopped coming sometimes during his break in sanity year four, or so Sam had told him the day he had gotten off the chains.<br/>Dream had only nodded numbly, and slumped to the ground against the wall, close enough to the lava for it to singe his skin. The warmth felt good, even if it hurt.<br/>He reasoned that pain was good for him. Something to grasp onto. A firm reminder not to be tricked again. Because he was never leaving Pandora’s Vault.<br/>Not unless he was dead.<br/>_<br/>How long had it been since someone had visited him? Dream thinks, knocking his head back against the wall. How long had it been since he felt anything other than guilt and regret.<br/>Some days his emotions would just desert him, making Dream like an empty husk that had been scraped clean and abandoned to rot in the cold.<br/>On the days when things would be too much, he would sit for hours banging his head against the wall, eyes leaking tears and blood trickling down his skin.<br/>Today was neither one of those days. Today, Dream found himself sane of mind and thinking of all that was and could have been.<br/>He wishes he could do everything all over again. L’Manberg, Manberg, Pogtopia, every fucking war.<br/>If he knew that this was where he would end up, he never would have tried to be so controlling.<br/>But it didn’t really matter now, did it. Because the SMP members were out there, and he was still in here.<br/>The nameless faces who were once his friends probably still hated him, or even forgot about him at this point. It really wouldn’t surprise him, nor would he blame them, even Dream hated himself most of the time these days.<br/>He sighs, body feeling a million years old from the lack of exercise, improper food, and lack of general caring.<br/>Dream was just so tired, and maybe if he closed his eyes and went to sleep he would wake up and be somewhere else, or maybe he wouldn’t wake up at all.<br/>It would be the least he could do for those forced to continue monitoring him all these years.<br/>Closing his eyes, Dream allows himself to drift, thoughts of past friends and wishes of doing right echoing through his mind as sleep pulls him under.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Just Give Me A Reason......Why?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The bigger they are, the harder they fall.  Tommy thinks,-</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>December 13, 2020 </p><p>Location: L’Manburg </p><p>Time: Mid-morning </p><p>_</p><p>“<em> Tommy I am so, so sorry.”  Tubbo says, turning his back on Tommy.  “Dream, I’ve come to the decision. That it would be best for the nation, the most logical thing to do, for Tommy to be…...Exiled from L’Manburg.” The ram-hybrid says to the smiley face mask wearing man.   </em></p><p>
  <em> Static fills his ears, and Tommy doesn’t really hear the rest of what Tubbo says.  Something about Technoblade….So much yelling.  Fundy and Quackity, demanding explanations from the ram-hybrid.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> This doesn’t matter to Tommy as his whole world begins to fall apart.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No, you don’t understand!  Anything that brings destruction and chaos shouldn’t be here!  You have to think logically here, we are not the only ones living here.  Our citizens are afraid, just waiting for more conflict to take place!”  Tubbo yells, silencing Fundy and Quackity’s protests.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Why?”  Tommy hears himself mumble.  Why was Tubbo suddenly doing this to him now?  Didn’t the other agree with him, that the discs were important….that Dream was the cause of the problems?  So, why?   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I made a promise to do what was best for this nation…”  Tubbo pauses, looking pained.  “Tommy, you being here is not what’s best for this nation.  Your presence constantly brings conflict, and it can’t go on.  All you care about is the discs, but they aren’t everything.  The future of L’Manburg…...It shouldn’t be determined by a set of discs.  I’m sorry, tommy, I really am.  But this is for the best.”  Tubbo apologizes, signalling for Quackity and Fundy.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> They seize his arms with regretful expressions and begin to drag him away from Tubbo and Dream.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Tommy struggles, screaming at Tubbo that he had trusted him.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The ram-hybrid stares at him sadly, and Tommy feels something inside him crack, a numb feeling spreading through his chest.   </em>
</p><p>“<em> Escort him away. </em> ” <em>  Tubbo says, stare seeming more and more pitying the more Tommy fights his ruling.   </em></p><p>
  <em> The last thing Tommy hears before he is dragged too far away is Dream agreeing to be the one to escort Tommy out of L’Manburg.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> _ </em>
</p><p>Tommy doesn’t know how far they travel, only that several days pass as they go from land to water to land again.  Not even Ghostbur’s on and off presence lifts his sullen mood as they travel.  The ghost pops up every now and then, chattering about his <em> blue </em>, and attempting to give Tommy some every time he sees him.  The teen never accepts it.  </p><p>It is two days later when they finally stop.  Two days of Ghostbur’s endless chatter and Dream’s foreboding silence, until Tommy tells the ghost to leave.  He does, with a sad look and promise to visit.  <em> Tommy really wishes he didn’t tell the other to leave.   </em></p><p>Because as soon as the ghost disappears, Dream digs a hole and tells him to put all his stuff in it.  </p><p>Tommy wants to tell the green bastard to go fuck himself.  Hadn’t he fucked up Tommy’s life enough already?  </p><p>He begins to put his smaller items like wood in the hole, but stops when he gets to things like his tools and communicator. </p><p>"Everything, Tommy." Dream says emotionlessly, roughly snatching the communicator and pocketing it.  </p><p>Tommy tries to protest, but Dream threatens him with <em> Nightmare </em> pointed at his neck.  He vividly remembers the cut he receives from the sharp edge of the enchanted netherite axe when he nervously swallows and it scores his skin.  </p><p>“<em> Everything </em>.”  The other hisses.  </p><p>Tommy feels like he wants to cry as he puts his stuff in the hole, his tools, armor, <em> food </em> , even a picture of Tubbo he had brought with him to the original meetup on top of the Obsidian wall, <em> everything </em>.  </p><p>Dream doesn’t say anything as he burns Tommy’s possessions, simply stays facing the teen, the smiley face of his mask looking mocking and cruel in the light of the crackling fire devouring the teen’s items.  </p><p>After the fire goes out, Dream leaves, and Tommy is left stranded in the middle of nowhere staring after the other in his boat until he disappears within the glittering waters glare.  </p><p>On one hand Tommy was glad that the masked man hadn’t left him stranded on one of the small islands they had passed when they were traveling by water in a boat…...  but on another, he was exiled.  </p><p>The situation was not looking good and Tommy realizes that at some point he had lost track of where they were, and just went with things.  </p><p>What more could he do besides just hang on for the ride, even if he felt more and more displaced as time passed.  He almost felt akin to a piece of a puzzle that had been kicked to the side and later found to not be needed in the end.  </p><p>At the moment he wasn’t even sure he would be able to find his way back to L’Manburg he tried, since they had gone through so many loops as they traveled that it made his head spin.  </p><p>Dream hadn’t even let him sleep, simply pushed on through the night and continued on when Tommy had asked for breaks.  </p><p>He had even begged to stop for a few minutes at one point and the other had simply stopped walking, and slowly turned to him.  The man’s silence had spoken volumes, and Tommy shivers as he remembers that in that moment he had been legitimately scared of the other.  </p><p>Worse yet, Tommy now had nothing on him besides his clothing.  The green bastard having not only destroyed his tools and such but even his food.  </p><p><em> Did the other want him to starve? </em>  Tommy thinks, turning away from the shore of the small beach he had been dumped on and picking his way into the trees.  He immediately nearly gets taken out by a poisonous berry bush that sports wicked thorns.  It seems like the sharp points reach towards him as he passes, his tired mind uninterested in letting him ascertain the threat to be minimal.  </p><p>Did Tubbo know that Tommy would be stripped of anything he could use to protect himself when the other had exiled him?  </p><p>Just the thought of the ram-hybrid who was….<em> had </em> been his best friend sends thoughts of betrayal rushing through him.  </p><p>He doesn’t know how long he will be exiled for, nor if he will be allowed back into L’Manburg once the exile is lifted.  </p><p>
  <em> Would he even want to go back?   </em>
</p><p>Tommy listlessly kicks a stray stone, watching the way it pings off the ground and goes ricocheting underneath a small patch of cornflowers.  </p><p>It feels like the trees are mocking him.  Gazing down at him and laughing at how the high and mighty Tommy has fallen.  </p><p><em> The bigger they are, the harder they fall </em>.  Tommy thinks, lifting his eyes from the ground and noticing the sun setting.  </p><p>“Better find somewhere to stay or I’m gonna be fucked over by mobs.”  He murmurs, going deeper into the woods, until he finds a reasonably sized tree.  </p><p>He begins climbing, going up for a long time until he finally settles about a hundred feet up.  Zombies wouldn’t bother him, and skeletons never looked up, so all he will need to worry about is spiders.  </p><p>At least he knew how to hide, if he didn’t, the exile would essentially be his very own quiet out of the way death sentence.  </p><p>Settling further on top of the wide thick tree branch, he leans against the tree’s trunk, ignoring the way the bark uncomfortably chafes his skin.  </p><p>It is when he is closing his eyes that his chest burns with his emotions finally boiling over with a vengeance and manifesting in the form of tears that slide down his cheeks.  </p><p><em> Was everything I did really so bad that I had to be exiled without anything more than a few words? </em>  Tommy thinks, and a large part of him hopes that when he closes his eyes, he’ll wake up tomorrow and find out this has all just been one big elaborate dream…..And that he hadn’t been exiled by his best friend…….Who the fuck was he kidding.  </p><p>He missed the place and people already and it had only been two days.  </p><p>The sound of zombies <em> brrrr-ing </em> below his tree makes the tears come faster as it truly sets in that he is all alone, <em> isolated </em> from everyone.  </p><p>He cries.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tommy: *gets exiled*<br/>Dream: *Is mean*<br/>Tommy's items: "We didn't start the fiiiiirrreeeeee!   It was always burnin' since a green bitch be murderin'!"<br/>Will things get better?<br/>I guess we'll see.  &gt;:D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Parallels</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Things would be better tomorrow.  He would remember.......... </p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Emerald eyes open with a click and Dream draws in a rattling gasp, only to choke when his retinas are seared.  Everything was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>bright</span>
  </em>
  <span>? What was going on?  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The voices screech in his head.  He ignores them as he is so used to doing.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Where was he?</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Dream thinks, eyes roving left and right at the unfamiliar things surrounding him.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Was this a hallucination?  Did he die? What were those structures in the distance?  Triangles on top of squares?  Something milling around the structures?  What were they?  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream swallows, feeling scared.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Scared was good, scared kept him alive, scared was familiar.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though he felt immensely weak, he drags himself up onto his unsteady legs and moves closer, curiosity winning over </span>
  <em>
    <span>fear</span>
  </em>
  <span> and driving him onwards.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It wasn’t safe</span>
  </em>
  <span>/</span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s your only chance</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  His mind screams.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He giggles.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hands rise to his head, fingers digging into the skin of his cheeks as he feels himself smile so wide it hurts.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What.  The.  Fuck.  Was. Going. On?  A hallucination?  What was that smell?  Refreshing in a way his cell’s air wasn’t.  Air?  Fresh?  What………..</span>
  </em>
  <span>He snaps out of it when he sees one of the things milling around carrying a dark colored object with something foreign on the end.  It looked sharp and triangular.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>An axe</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Something inside his mind hums faintly, and Dream thinks that perhaps he had once known these things, but had forgotten.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>New information sends him stumbling and tripping over his own feet, his arms doing nothing to hold him up when he falls.  His head hurtles towards the ground as pain flairs through him, his broken mind trying to comprehend the new knowledge.  He doesn’t feel the trickle of blood staining the ground from his skin breaking on impact, only the overbearing sense of </span>
  <em>
    <span>memories</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When it finally ends, he takes deep breaths, feeling violently ill.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew several things, and one of them was that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he needed items.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pushing himself up onto shaky limbs, he begins trudging towards the structures and milling things.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Food.  </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>Power</em>
  </b>
  <span>.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everything hurts</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A stray villager witnesses a man coming towards the village, clothing and hair caked with blood.  At first they think the other is in trouble because of some mob, that is until they get closer and the filth caked face is revealed.  The expression on the stranger’s face is not </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span>, lacking </span>
  <em>
    <span>humanity,</span>
  </em>
  <span> lacking </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The villager screams in fear, running back to the village center and sounding the alarm.  The rest of the villagers scramble and shriek in fright at the warning of an incoming threat, fleeing to their houses and bolting the doors.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream stares uncomprehendingly?  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why?</span>
  </em>
  <span>  He didn’t understand why they were moving away from him.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t mean any harm.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes he did</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So, why were they gone now?  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Because you want to kill them</span>
  </em>
  <span>.’ One of the more ominous voices whispers to him, while another croons so sweetly about </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>it would </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>to sink his hands into the beings </span>
  <em>
    <span>warmth</span>
  </em>
  <span> and watch as color </span>
  <em>
    <span>blooms</span>
  </em>
  <span>.    </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He keeps stumbling along, walking past those foreign structures and hearing the chatter of fearful living signatures.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually an even larger structure comes into view, this one hosting a second floor with many shapes that Dream can see through.  It is more familiar than anything he has seen so far.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he gets close enough, a second memory swallows him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Community House</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>DREEAAAMMMMM!!!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Two men yell, running after him as he laughs in delight.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He is tackled from behind by the dark haired man with a flame on his shirt, and they roll across the dirt.  The other man joins a moment later, his white goggles flying off his face and bouncing across the ground as he jumps on top of both Dream and S#%*@&amp;.  The dark haired man and him groan in discomfort at the sudden weight, before all three look at each other and burst out laughing.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>True joy makes him feel like he is soaring as he hugs both men close to his chest.  Close to his heart.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I love you guys.”  Dream laughs.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Love you too man.”  The dark haired man says, while the blue shirted one grumbles that he guesses he loved them.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He is so deliriously happy as they all get to their feet and look towards their creation that he feels faint.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“We did it.”  The dark haired man breathes.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah we did.”  Dream agrees, grabbing both men’s hands and just holding them, basking in their success.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It's beautiful.”  The blue shirted man says, pulling both Dream and the dark haired man along with him.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>They all smile and laugh as they bring their stuff inside, setting up rooms and making a blanket fort, all three sleep together the first night and many after that.  They couldn’t bring themselves to be apart.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>George, Sapnap.</em>
  </b>
  <span>  The names taste like fire and cinnamon as his mouth forms them.  The voices chatter inside his head, repeating them over and over again.  <em>George, Sanpnap, George, Sanpnap.........</em> </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream doesn’t realize he is crying until he blinks and his vision blurs, the sharp sting of tears sliding down his face and cutting through blood and grime.  A sob escapes him, soundless and yet so loud in his mind.  Echoing like the agony of an unfulfilled life.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He completely zones, barely even reacting when the villagers slowly venture from their homes to determine the strangers threat level.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They watch him, noticing the way he pales over time.  Eventually the village doctor comes forward and deems him little threat, motioning for others to approach.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream vaguely feels multiple sets of hands gently lifting him from the ground and carrying him somewhere </span>
  <em>
    <span>warm, soft, what was this?</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Dream thinks.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They clean and bandage his wounds, taking great care to be gentle and not jostle him too much.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s nice.</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Dream thinks, so different from the nothingness he was used to.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something nudges him, and he lifts blurry gaze to see the village doctor holding out a glass bottle full of water.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gratefully takes it with shaking hands.  It had been so long since he had water that had not come from his respawn cauldron.  As soon as the water touches his tongue, he tips the bottle further back to chug it with abandon, so much so that he nearly chokes.  It was so good, like nothing he’d ever tasted before, how could something taste this good?  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he is done, the village doctor gives him a stern look, before packing up and leaving him alone with a parting ‘hnnn’ noise that Dream thinks probably means </span>
  <em>
    <span>go to sleep</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stays staring up at the ceiling of the space he is, studying the lines that cross the material it was made off, whatever material that was?  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He promises himself that he'd get answers on where he was, what many of the things he saw are, who and what the beings are that helped him, and anything else he can find out.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>It wouldn't do to be completely clueless.  </em>A part of him hums, while another part chirps that he didn't need a damn thing the beings had to offer, and that just had to remember to have everything he needed.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Making up his mind, Dream allows his eyelids to flutter.  Despite having a vague sense that he had already been asleep not long ago, he feels exhausted and finds himself drifting off, the flicker of color and sound across his mind lulling him to sleep as he escapes into the palace of his mind.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Things would be better tomorrow.  He would remember.......... </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>- Poor Dream's so cracked in the head, even if he is remembering things.  <br/>- Also, if this chapter is a bit confusing in a few parts like where Dream is trying to figure out what things are, its supposed to be that way because of Dream's current mental state still being jacked up.  <br/>- Lastly, not all the way sure how I feel about this chapter.  May or may not end up coming back and rewriting it in the near future.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Wash and Repeat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Wh-what?”  Tommy questions.  They weren’t really doing this again, were they?  </p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apologies for not posting recently, but between work, school, and generally trying to be a functional member of society, I haven't had a lot of time to write chapters. </p><p>As always, hope ya'll enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Tommy wakes up the next morning by falling out of his tree and landing hard on his side.  This is of course after he hits every branch on the way down.  </p><p>He groans, knowing he will be covered in bruises later.  </p><p>Worse yet, his stomach growls like a lion, reminding him that he had not eaten dinner nor had any food left because a certain green bastard had burnt it.  Sue him, Tommy was salty as fuck at the dick.  </p><p>He flinches when he feels warmth run down his arm.  </p><p>Glancing over, Tommy grimaces when he sees a rather sizable scrape on his arm from his encounter with various tree branches.  He doesn’t really worry too much about it, since the bleeding was already beginning to slow, but he also didn’t want it to get tacky and gross so he goes back to the beach and cleans it off with some ocean water.  </p><p>He winces when the salt in the water burns in the wound, but it was better to get out the grime and clean it again later than let bacteria grow willy nilly.  </p><p>When he is finished, Tommy looks around, trying to find anything he can eat or make tools with.  It takes him exploring for a while before he finds some suitable trees that he can easily take down.  </p><p>From there on, he makes a crafting table and a wooden sword, testing the sharpness by clearing some brush.  </p><p>“Works well enough.”  Tommy mumbles, hearing the bleating of Sheep nearby.  <em>Might as well get food, and then shelter.</em>  </p><p>He carefully breaks down his crafting table, and stores it along with his extra wood planks and sticks in his inventory.  </p><p>Maneuvering his way through trees, over brush and around stones, he comes upon a white Sheep milling through the trees, occasionally eating grass.  </p><p>It bleats, leaning its head down to eat more grass, and Tommy strikes. </p><p>He gets in one good hit that splits the Sheep's skin, and almost gets in another, before the animal bolts, leaving him in the dust.  </p><p>Inexplicably, Tommy feels angry tears prick at the corner of his eyes.  He sniffles and kicks at the ground in anger.    </p><p><em> Why was everything so fucking hard? </em>  He thinks, staring after the fleeing Sheep in dismay.  </p><p>His stomach growls loudly, and he curls an arm around his middle.  He needed food soon.  </p><p>He could eat some berries.  <em> But what if they were poisonous?  </em>He thinks angrily.  </p><p>Tommy knows he wasn’t nearly diligent enough in his studies when he lived with Phil to know the difference between poisonous plants and edible ones.  He wasn’t a genius like Phil’s friend Technoblade, he wasn’t dedicated to learning like Wilbur, and he certainly didn’t have endless amounts of patience like Phil…..He just wanted to have fun, which often led to him escaping from his studies to go have fun, resulting in all the chests in their previous home getting disorganized by Tommy’s younger self.</p><p>Snapping back to the present, Tommy grimaces.  He only got as far as killing and cooking animals, getting water, and how to craft tools.  He hadn’t cared about plants and such, since at the time, he didn’t think he’d ever be stuck in a situation where he would need to use the knowledge.  </p><p><em> Secretly, he believed that his family would always be there for him when he needed them. </em>  </p><p>He decides to follow after the sheep.  </p><p>It is not far from his current location, just around the bend with a second white sheep.  Though it is clear which one Tommy had hurt, given the red bloodstain on its wool.  </p><p>He silently creeps closer, not even daring to break as he gets into position, and waits for the grazing animal to come closer.  </p><p>Eventually it does, and Tommy lunges, blade raised and brought down in a killing blow.  </p><p>Blood splatters across his face and down his front, and the sheep screams as it dies.  </p><p>Tommy pants, ignoring the other sheep that flees as he quickly kneels on the ground and starts skinning his kill.  He gags several times during the process, having to take many breaks to not vomit at the grotesqueness of getting food.  He can’t believe that this was how his family had always gotten all their meat.  </p><p><em> How do people like Phil and Techno do this? </em>  Tommy thinks, closing his eyes when he snaps the ribs to cut away the meat.  Each and every one makes a horrible noise, and Tommy flinches hard when the jagged end of a broken bone digs into his wrist and makes blood trickle down his skin.   </p><p><em> Another wound to be treated </em>.  He grimaces, retracting his hand from the sheep’s corpse and holding it away from the meat so the appendage drips blood onto the ground and not the meat. </p><p>With his other hand he tugs off his green scarf and wraps it around the bleeding wound, before going back to his work.  He didn’t want to be spending time doing this anymore than he had to.  </p><p>It still takes him the better part of an hour to wrestle some reasonable sized mutton chunks from the sheep, and even then, he only gets two steaks and its wool.  The rest of the sheep was too butchered to be of use.  </p><p>He collects sticks and dead grass from the woods, piling it up in a small circle he digs out with his hands.  <em> Two broken nails, more injuries to add to the list.  He just didn’t care enough at the moment to be more careful. </em>  </p><p>Eventually, Tommy is able to aggressively rub some sticks together and generate enough friction to catch the dead dried grass on fire, making a small fire come to life.  Though Tommy is successful, it still takes around thirty minutes before he is able to properly cook his mutton over the flickering flames.  </p><p>The cooking process is <em> interesting </em> to say the least, and Tommy finds out that cooking over such a small fire has its pros and cons.  On one hand the meat is slow cooked, leaving the insides tender and chewable….On the other hand, some parts of his mutton burn, leaving him to crunch loudly on the foul tasting blackened bits of meat.  It is also blander than anything Tommy has ever tasted, and he briefly contemplates scrapping the meat and trying to find some more sheep.  </p><p>He still eats it, not willing to waste even a bite of his hard earned food.  </p><p>_</p><p>After his meal, Tommy douses the fire with dirt and collects his items.  He would go look for better shelter while the sun was high.  </p><p>He explores for hours, crafting a wooden pickaxe and acquiring cobblestone which he uses to make a stone sword. </p><p>During the latter half of his exploration, he sees more trees, grass, cornflowers, and the occasional Sheep. </p><p>
  <em>He quickly learns how to stalk and kill the animals with minimal effort.  His stone sword aids in the process, and he takes down a second and third Sheep soon after.  The animal is skinned, the wool collected, and Tommy's clothing is painted in just a little more blood each time.  He tries not to let it remind him of his friends and the the fighting, hurt, betrayal, death associated with the color.  </em>
</p><p>Eventually he comes across a small clearing with a pond in it, and stops to clean the wool he has collected from the three Sheep he had killed.  The mutton remains wrapped up in the third piece of Wool for safe-keeping until he can deal with it.  His tools sit just off to the side, with his wooden sword being reduced to fire fodder when he had broken it on a tree, and his wooden pickaxe missing an entire half of its blade from another mishap he'd rather not think about.  The stone sword Tommy keeps beside him, occasionally using it to get stray pieces of flesh off the Wool and shape the material to a rough approximation of what he wants.  </p><p>He had enough wood for a small shack, so he was good on that front, though he'd have to improvise for a door it seemed. </p><p>When he is almost done cleaning the wool, Tommy wrings the wool out and spreads it across the ground to sun dry.  He was going to make a blanket out of them to use at night, since last night he learned just how cold it got when the sun went down.  </p><p>At some point, Tommy hears the soft sound of footsteps and assumes it is another Sheep padding along.  </p><p>“Hey, Tommy.”  </p><p>The voice sends chills down Tommy’s spine, and he barely represses a flinch when he feels someone come closer.  </p><p>“Aye, Dream, how are y-ya?”  He turns to face the other, mentally berating himself over the way his voice trembles on the last word.  <em>why am I so scared?</em>  He thinks, not knowing why it felt like his heart wanted to beat out of his chest at the others appearance.  </p><p>Dream cocks his head to the side, looking to be thinking.  </p><p>“I came to check on you, make sure you weren’t already breaking your exile.”  </p><p>Tommy feels anger bubble in his gut, contradicting and overpowering his inexplicable fear.  </p><p>“Well, as you can see I’m not.”  He snaps back, perhaps a bit impulsively if Dream clenching his hands into fists is anything to go by.  </p><p>Suddenly a thought strike him, and Tommy's hands tremble.  They were not in L’Manburg, he had no items to combat Dream who stood in <em> full </em> netherite armor less than three feet away from him, they were thousands of blocks away from anyone, Dream could do anything and no one would know.  </p><p>“I can see that....”  Dream trails off, and Tommy wants to breathe a sigh of relief, until the masked man begins to speak again.  </p><p>“But that doesn’t mean you won’t try when I leave.  And we can’t have that, can we, Tommy?”  </p><p>“Uhhh, no.”  Tommy mutters, feeling as if he has to agree.  </p><p>Dream seems to tower over him, and Tommy has a horrible sinking feeling that somewhere in their conversation he had fucked up.  </p><p>This thought is only confirmed when Dream backs up several paces and pulls a shovel from his inventory.  </p><p>In a matter of seconds, a hole is dug and Tommy has a bad feeling that he knows exactly where this scenario was going.  </p><p>“Put your items in the hole, Tommy.”  Dream says.  </p><p>“Wh-what?”  Tommy questions.  They weren’t really doing this again, were they?  </p><p>“You heard me.  I can’t leave you with anything that could be used to break free of your exile.  That includes <em> tools </em>.”  </p><p>“Fuck you, what am I going to do with them besides survi-”  Tommy growls, though his words are cut off when a gloved hand wraps around his throat lightning fast.  He scratches and pulls at Dream’s arm, trying to get the other to let go.  </p><p><em> What is going on!  What is going on!  WHAT IS GOING ON! </em>  He thinks frantically, gasping for air, only to choke when Dream tightens his grip and leans closer.  </p><p>“You need to <em> learn </em> to <em> listen </em> , Tommy.  You didn’t last time, and boy was it hard not to put you in your place then.  No one's here for you now, no one's coming, you are <em>alone</em>.  Now I won’t be asking again.  <em> Put your items in the hole </em>.”  Dream says, voice a dark promise that brooks no argument as he releases Tommy’s neck, causing the teen to fall to the ground gasping and choking.  </p><p><em> Fuck </em>.  Tommy thinks, tears blurring his vision as he tosses his newly made stone sword, his broken wooden pickaxe, his wool, and everything else he has into the hole.  </p><p>Dream immediately lights the items on fire, destroying them.  Tommy coughs as the smoke invades his nostrils, further invigorating the pain in his throat from being nearly choked out.  </p><p>“Remember Tommy, you are being punished for your wrongdoings.”  <em> You deserve this </em>.  Is left unsaid, but Tommy gets it all the same as he covers his neck with his right hand and glares up at Dream from his spot on the ground.  </p><p>“Goodbye Tommy, I’ll visit again soon.”  Dream turns, though pauses in his departure.  “And remember, if I find out you’ve been plotting again.  Well,<em> I won’t be so lenient next time </em>.”  Dream says, and Tommy can hear the smile and threat in the other's voice.  </p><p>He says nothing as the other leaves.  </p><p><em> Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck </em>   <em> What was he supposed to do now with nothing left and Dream’s threat hanging over his head?   </em></p><p><em> Be sneakier. </em>  Tommy thinks defiantly, clenching his teeth and plotting how he would get back at the other.  </p><p><em> There will be hell to pay, you green fucker. </em>  </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Struggling, angst, frankly a lot of swearing, all the passengers are comin to board the pain train.<br/>Also, yes, Dream is a bit grabby with the necky in this chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Waking Up Inside</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Redemption.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>“<em> SUCK IT GREEN BOIIIIIII!!!!! </em> ” <em>   A young blond boy screeches in delight, flipping Dream off with both hands as he and many others cheer and laugh. </em>  </p>
<p>
  <em> Was this what defeat felt like?   </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The same boy stands at the edge of a Netherrack outcropping, eyes dark and hands shaking.  Tears stream down his face, and he takes a step backwards, closer to his final death.   </em>
</p>
<p><em> “It is not your time to die, Tommy.”  </em> <b> <em>He</em> </b> <em> says with a commanding voice.   </em></p>
<p><em> The blond looks back at </em> <b> <em>him</em> </b> <em> with dead eyes, but retreats from the edge, simultaneously looking both relieved and more close to losing his mind than ever.   </em></p>
<p>
  <em> _ </em>
</p>
<p>Dream rears up with a sharp gasp, memories and thoughts smashing into one another like converging currents.  It makes his head spin, and he barely twists his body to the side in time before he is violently retching bile onto the floor beside the bed.  </p>
<p><em> How could he!  How could he!  To A CHILD!  </em>Dream thinks desperately, eyes and throat burning.  </p>
<p>Gasping for air, he spits out acrid tasting saliva.  <em> What kind of sick fuck……. </em></p>
<p>When Dream no longer feels like he is in danger of losing whatever he has left in his stomach, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.  His jaw clenches as he feels anger and disgust burn in his gut at what he remembered as he slept.  His actions, the manipulations, bad memories, bad actions, bad, bad, bad.  <em> Was he a bad person? </em>  </p>
<p>
  <em> Was there even anything good to remember?   </em>
</p>
<p><em> Perhaps.  Perhaps </em> <b> <em>not</em> </b> <em> . </em>  The voices coo, a mocking lilt to their tone.  </p>
<p>If only the damn things would shut up!  He didn’t need something unseen judging his every action.  <em> Betrayal, you were born to be betrayed </em>.  They laugh, snickering when Dream drags broken fingernails down the skin of his face, leaving behind trails akin to claw marks that bead with and drip blood onto his arms and lap.  </p>
<p>His lip curls, and he painstakingly slides his legs out from under the heavy covers that <em> someone </em> had put on him at some point during the night.  He didn’t want to stay here any longer than he had to.  </p>
<p>Almost immediately something pink catches his eye on the nightstand.  </p>
<p><em> Healing Potion </em>.  Dream muses, cocking his head to the side.  </p>
<p>He didn’t deserve it.  Not after all he’d done.  </p>
<p><em> But then who would know what to do to make things better? </em>  One of the shyer voices questions.  </p>
<p>This stops him, and for once Dream does not blatantly ignore the voices, but contemplates their suggestion.  </p>
<p><em> Who else would know what to prevent…..Who else would be able to stop Dream, before he irrevocably fucked others up….Who else but himself?  </em>  </p>
<p>Dream’s shoulders shake in soundless laughter as he thinks of an old phrase he had heard, <em> No one can beat me but me. </em>  </p>
<p>It takes mere moments for him to make up his mind.  </p>
<p><em> None of that can happen this time </em> .  Dream breathes deeply, new resolve settling in his bones.  Unnoticed by himself, his eyes flare a dull emerald green as an <em> old </em> connection to the server is established.  </p>
<p>The voices shriek in triumph, deafening him, even as he hauls himself out of bed through sheer force of will and swipes the healing potion, downing it in one go.  He doesn’t worry about throwing it up later, he pushes himself forwards, putting on the simple grey hoodie left for him at the end of the bed as well as the brown bootie-like shoes that he has to secure with leather straps.  </p>
<p>When he is all set, he leaves the safety of the <em> house </em> he is in.  </p>
<p>The plan is to silently disappear, however that does not happen, because when he steps foot outside he is immediately caught by the villagers.   </p>
<p>They swarm around him, “hnnn’ing” questions and congratulations at his recovery.  </p>
<p>From then on, he is ushered to the Community House and pushed inside.  They don’t ask him for a name, and they don’t ask what happened to him to put him in such a state. They care for him and respect his privacy, and eventually Dream learns to communicate with them.  </p>
<p>Somehow-<em> Dream still doesn’t know how </em>-he is persuaded to stay by the Elders.  They even manage to convince him to help around the village for however long he is there.  </p>
<p>Dream still doesn’t forget his goal, but once he hears the date, he relaxes.  He still had a couple months before everything was going to get fucked by Tommy’s exile.  </p>
<p>
  <em> Little does he know that pieces of the puzzle were already falling eskew.   </em>
</p>
<p>_</p>
<p>During the day he farms, and is taught more about the world, while in the evening he wields practice weapons and kills mobs.  </p>
<p>It takes work.  Blood, sweat, tears, and the occasional mental breakdown, but Dream is able to break away from his signature fighting style.  He wasn’t going to use an axe, there were too many bad memories associated with the crescent shaped blades for him to hold one in his hand and use it to <em> fight </em>.  The first time he had picked up a dull wooden axe since being in the village, he had flashbacks to the sound of parting flesh and cracking bones as the Dream of his memories laughed while slaughtering those he had once called friends…...Little to say, he had not so much as looked at an axe since.  </p>
<p>Though this made collecting wood all the more difficult, he did not need to physically hold himself back from violently retching as graphic scenes played through his mind, as long as he stayed away from the tool turned weapon.  </p>
<p>More memories poured in soon after that, with the sight of growing wheat, he remembered a bright woman named Niki who had owned a bakery.  </p>
<p>The glint of yellow straw hats resembling gold reminded Dream of a Piglin-hybrid he knew.  A hybrid who had once confided in him that it was hard to be feared by everyone.  </p>
<p>……...The sight of bees made him cry sometimes, reminding him of a young boy who was forced into an adults world too young.  Someone who was manipulated and taken advantage of because of his naivety.  A boy named Tubbo who had grown oh so cold in the years Dream had known him.  </p>
<p>People like Punz and Sam were remembered at the worst of times, when Dream’s mind and body were rebelling against him, burning with fever that made him cry with delirious abandon.  The prison.  He remembered bits and pieces, how there was never enough food...the constant ache of hunger in his stomach often his only companion.  Punz’s betrayal, the friendship they had….all lost because of <em> money </em>.  </p>
<p>Eret’s memory was complicated to say the least, because Dream knows he respected them, however, it was hard to differentiate whether he had forgiven them for their betrayal or if he was still unsure.  Because on one hand Dream <em> understood </em> Eret’s betrayal and why they did it, but on the other, the part of him that just wanted to have family and be loved felt as if the gaping wound of betrayal was still fresh and seeping pure acid.  </p>
<p>He doesn’t remember everyone….One such woman who had the fluffiest white hair and soft laughter that could only belong to a mother.  Another, a young man who wore all purple, and a third who had a knack for trickery yet was kind hearted.  He didn’t remember <em> them </em> , only those few characteristics that reminded him that they <em> existed </em>.  </p>
<p>Some days Dream questions whether this is all a dream, whether his resolve two months ago was a fluke with how superficial things feel…..It grates on him, day in and day out, not being able to see what is going on in the SMP, Tommy’s Exile, what Technoblade and Philza are doing.<em>  Sapnap and George</em>.  It hurts, knowing that things will never be the same as they once were.  </p>
<p>This was one of the reasons why he was currently in the forge feeding iron ore into a furnace with an overabundance of coal.  </p>
<p>If Dream was the problem, then like a blade Dream needed to be reforged to fit the mold of something new.  <em> Something better </em>.  He reminds himself, watching the soft orange glow of fire dance along the block, iron oozing from its crevices to land in a container that Dream has placed below.  </p>
<p>When it is time, Dream carefully pulls the container from the furnace with a pair of metal tongs and tips the liquid metal into a mould he had made early.  </p>
<p>He is handed a smithing Hammer by the Village Blacksmith who stands off to the side, watching the process with a fascinated gaze.  </p>
<p>The iron is removed from the mold and struck with the hammer, causing orange sparks to fly off the half-molten metal as it is shaped to what Dream desires.  </p>
<p>Sweat trickles down his face and back as he works, every strike resonating through his frame as he gets closer and closer to his goal.  </p>
<p>Once Dream is satisfied, he puts the cooling metal back into the furnace and waits for it to turn bright red again before dunking it in a barrel of water, eliciting a hiss of steam.  </p>
<p>When the metal is cooled, Dream withdraws a sword from the barrel, lithe and deadly looking even before being sharpened.  A Rapier had not been Dream’s first choice of a new weapon, however when he had realized that he wanted a more defensive weapon, the choice was easy to make.  </p>
<p>Now, he leans over his new weapon, a small pointed tool in his hand that he uses to engrave one of the curved arms branching out from the hilt like the branches of trees.  It looked both beautiful, and would protect his hand while wielding the blade.  He is meticulous as he slowly and painstakingly carves grooves into the iron.  One mistake and the piece could be ruined.  </p>
<p>When he is done, Dream sits back to gaze down at the single freshly engraved word.  </p>
<p><b>Redemption</b>.  Because Dream was throwing his old self away.  The one who manipulated others, hurt them, killed them.  The one who had turned into a monster.  </p>
<p>With the forging of this blade, Dream would finally reforge himself.  </p>
<p>_ </p>
<p>It is the next morning when Dream knows it is time to leave.  </p>
<p>Though the Villager’s are sad to see him go, they bid him well, offering “hnnn’s” of encouragement and a dozen loaves of bread for wherever his journey would lead him.  </p>
<p>He sets off as the sun is sitting just above the hills, not quite the height of the morning, and not quite dawn.  The perfect time to begin making his way back towards the SMP and those he once knew.  </p>
<p>Dream takes the first step, and welcomes <em> change</em>. </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dream of the first half: So sure of himself.  &gt;:3<br/>Dream of the second half: uhhhhhhhhh, maybe?  </p>
<p>Yes, there is a time skip of two months, yes it would have just been Dream hoeing fields and fighting mobs.  Yes, I rewrote this chapter like four times.  And yes, Dream has regained many of his memories and knows that things are not 'good' per-say in the current time, but he's chugging along.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. NOT A CHAPTER</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yeah, so apparently my laptop has decided its a good time to say sayonara to proper functioning.  I've tried clearing it, resetting it, etc., but nothings really working. Unfortunately this means that I've been focusing on 'that' problem rather than writing.  The problems have gotten marginally better, but I'm still not sure my laptop isn't just going to suddenly die one day.  So with great sadness I will be putting this and my other fics on hiatus until I can either figure out whats going on or get a new laptop. (Leaning towards the latter with how things are looking). </p><p>I would also like to say thank you to all those who have stuck with me so far, your support means a lot to me.  Hopefully I will be able to sort the problem out quickly and with minimal trouble.  Again, thank you and I hope to be back soon. </p><p>- TaterTot</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>- Fuck canon, we're doing something different.  &gt;:3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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